


Scars

by aerobesk



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-10 23:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerobesk/pseuds/aerobesk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Like I said, they liked not using armor. And Carolina always was a fan of knives.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

Wash had spoken a few times about how he and the other freelancers had trained without their armor on. He said that it was to make them stronger, ready for an ambush, and less reliant on their suits. Tucker thought it was bullshit, but he didn’t complain when he got to see Wash fight with Church or Caboose, and actually got to study the way the man himself looked rather than the terrifying suit.

They all used the main shower room to get cleaned up, almost like school locker room, but not. There were no full-length mirrors or rows of lockers. Just 2 benches, a pair of sinks, one grungy mirror on the wall, and a row of shower stalls. Since there were only 3 of them, they had converted two of the showers into make shift lockers for them, just for a place to put their things.

Since there were so few of them, they usually had the room to themselves. So Tucker was pretty surprised when Wash walked in after his personal workout and slipped into the shower next to his. He heard the curtain close and the water hissing, but there was no other sound.

Tucker finished up, pulling his things from his “locker” and slipping on his pants and shirt, toweling off his hair in the mirror as Wash left his shower and pulled his pants on. Just as Tucker was turning around to leave, he caught a glimpse of Wash’s back as the man dug through his locker for his shirt. He did a double take before openly staring.

Wash’s back was a pattern of scars, some long, some short, some smooth, some jagged, some fading, some relatively new. They crisscrossed over each other, some spreading out over his arms and down into the waistband of his pants. A few stood out, like a large circular wound right under his ribcage, and a long, straight one going from his neck to the bottom of his shoulder blades.

By the time Tucker realized he was staring Wash had noticed too. He chuckled softly, drawing Tucker’s eyes away from the ex-freelancer’s back to his face.

“Like I said, they liked not using armor. And Carolina always was a fan of knives.”

He pulled his shirt on, smiling at Tucker before leaving the room, leaving the stunned aqua soldier on his own.

Tucker sat on a bench, staring at the floor. Of anything he had been expecting, that wasn’t it. All of Wash’s stories were true? The ones that he told Caboose at night to get him to sleep, the ones that he could hear through the wall of his own room, were true? He couldn’t believe it.

No wonder Wash was the way he was. He was kind of annoying, and kind of rough, but he actually had a reason for it. Tucker sighed, putting his head in his hands.

Maybe Wash wasn’t just full of shit. He stood, leaving the room and heading to his own. He was thinking about it too much.

That night, when he heard Wash on the other side of the wall, he didn’t groan, or shove a pillow over his head, or try to drown out the other man’s voice. He listened, really listened. And as he heard about all of the things that he and his friends did, he heard something akin to sadness and joy mixed in his voice. He missed it. Even after everything that they had gone through with the project, he missed it, simply because of his friends.

Tucker rolled over, letting himself get lost in Wash’s memories. Maybe they weren’t really the worst place to be.


End file.
